Involuntary Sins
by Ready Or Notxx
Summary: David murdered a man. But it's not like he would do it in cold blood. Not unless he had to. And he had to. He was forced to. In order to save his own life. Oneshot.


Nobody loves David from Saw 0.5 anymore! He deserves love, wouldn't you say? Well, this isn't my best work, but you should try to enjoy it anyways!

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

David ran.

After that pale white doll rode out on that tricycle and spoke those evil, evil words to him, he ran. He ran out of that warehouse, his hands and long-sleeved white shirt still stained with dark red blood. Someone else's blood. Blood from someone who had been a living, breathing person. Blood from someone who David had just murdered. Not in cold blood. Not because he wanted to do it. Because he had to. Because every fiber of his small frame was screaming _Don't let me die don't let me die don't let me die don't let me die!_

David may be obnoxious and self-centered, but it's not like he would purposely end someone else's life. Not unless he has to.

He remembers the hearing a few months after his test, a few months after unhooking a reverse bear trap from his upper and lower jaws. He remembers the judge staring at him professionally but with small shards of sympathy and pity flickering through her gaze.

And of course he remembers the family of the man David had to cut open to get the key. He remembers the man's parents and his little sister, all glowering at him with glowers that easily could be read. _You killed him. _David had read them for a few moments before putting his head in his hands and letting out a few shaky whimpers. _You murderer. You killed him, you killed him in cold blood! What are we supposed to do without him now? How could you do this to us?_

"Is it true that you killed the man James Cooper on the date of November 5th?"

"Yes," David had answered, his voice small, his voice shaky and frightened as he took a drag from his cigarette. He held it and gazed at the jury, his gray eyes holding their gazes for only a few seconds. They didn't know him. They didn't _want _to know him. They could care less about him. They only cared about whether he was guilty or not guilty.

"But you say that Jigsaw 'forced' you to kill him. Is that correct?"

David lowered his gray gaze and breathed a small, quivering answer. "Yes."

"Can you please describe to us how the Jigsaw killer 'forced' you to kill this man?"

"Yes."

David was tired of telling this story to people over and over again, tired of telling the tale of him waking up strapped to a chair. Tired of telling the tale of him fighting for his young, miserable, useless life. Tired of telling people how Jigsaw forced him to take a life to save his own, telling people how he pulled the key out of a live person's stomach. Tired of telling people that, yes, he did murder that man, and yes, he did it to save his own life.

David put his used up cigarette in the ash tray in front of him as he finished his story. His hands were shaking. Hands that had had someone else's blood all over them. His hands.

People discussed David's story, discussed the evidence from the scene, discussed the video recording of that stupid doll that had spoken to David. David just sat in his chair quietly, wishing he had another cigarette, closing his eyes.

"This is total manslaughter! He killed the guy. He admitted it. Haven't you ever heard of _guilty as sin?"_

"He only did it because he only had a minute left to live. If you were faced with death, what would you have done? Is it right for David to die just because it's illegal, as you say, to murder someone? Would it have been okay for him to die instead?"

David whimpered.

"Would it have been right either way?"

It's easy to say that David was found not guilty after all. It's not like he ever would've murdered him in cold blood. He'd had no choice, no choice at all. And even though they found him not guilty of first-degree murder or third-degree murder...

He _was _guilty. He _did _murder someone. And that sort of anxiety was enough to send talons of ice skating down David's spine as he walked home to his apartment.

He did it. He knows what he did.

But there's something David won't forget, won't ever forget.

As he was walking out of the court house, one of the jurors, old and blonde, grabbed his arm and whispered to him, "Congratulations, David."

David hadn't even turned around. He hadn't had to. He knew that voice. It stuck to him, even as the man was long gone and out of his life. It echoed in his mind, like a far-off, vague voice. A voice that chilled through his skin to his bones.

_Congratulations, David. You are still alive. Most people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. Not anymore._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

I've never written something in past tense before. XD As you can tell, this whole thing is pretty much a giant flashback. Review, please? :D


End file.
